GerIta: Goodbye

The room was dimly lit, the shadows reflected off the wall and onto the table where the prisoner sat. The guard, Vassar patrolled around the edges, gazing suspiciously at the criminal.

The blond haired, blue eyed man at the table bowed down his head, penisve. He lifted his handcuffed hands.

"Please, can you take these off?" He quietly asked.

"You know the rules," the guard curtly repiled.

"But it's only Feliciano," Ludwig pleaded. "It's not like I'm going to hurt you. I just-"

"I understand. You're afraid you won't see him again," Vassar's voice was empty, without sympathy.

Cling. The handcuffs were unlocked. Ludwig rubbed his aching, red, wrists. His normally stern expression had turned apprehensive. The words of judge Kirkland kept ringing in his ears.

Guilty.

Guilty.

Guilty.

It was the end. It was the end for sure.

"Ludwig!"

The Italian let out an anguished cry. He ran towards the table, his arms waving in the air.

"Feliciano!"

Ludwig got up, to move forward, to embrace his love. But the Swiss guard forcefully placed himself in between the two.

"No! Rules are rules! No contact!"

"Please!" Ludwig's voice cracked, his arm shaking. "Please! Let me get close to him!"

"Ludwig!" Feliciano screamed. "Ludwig!"

"Feliciano! I'm here!" The German pushed the prision guard aside and rushed up towards his love. The two met in a deep, tearful, embrace.

"I'd thought I'd never see you again," Feliciano sobbed.

"Me too," Ludwig carressed Feliciano's head, burried in his chest. "I'd thought I'd lost you again!"

Feliciano cried even harder.

"But I don't want--" Tears came faster than words. Ludwig's shirt was starting to become damp.

The rainfall welled out of Ludwig's eyes. The last bits of mental strengh he possessed were quickly shattered.

"But I'll still have you!" He weeped. "And you'll have me!"

"Don't leave me!" Feliciano wailed.

Ludwig held Feliciano even closer.

"My love I don't want you to leave me!"

There they stood, sobs echoing throught the room. The prision guard stared, unmoved, as stoic as ever.

Finally, the two backed up. They held hands staring deep into each other's eyes.

"Whatever happens," Ludwig started. "Whatever happens, I'm ready."

Feliciano, still crying, tried to take deep breaths. He squeezed Ludwig's hands even tighter.

"I don't want you to die!"

"I don't want to die either Feli," Ludwig whispered. "But if I have to pay the price, I will."

Feliciano stared at him with a mixture of shock and awe.

Ludwig sighed and gentely carressed the Italian's soft cheek.

"I'll have you. And you have me."

Feliciano nodded.

Ludwig stepped back, his shaking hands lifted the dangling chain that was around his neck. He put the chain in Feliciano's hand.

"Your cross!"

"I want you to keep it," Ludwig said.

"No! I can't! It's your favorite--"

"Please. To remember me--us."

The Italian fingered it as if it were sacred rosary beads. His lips touched the iron cross then reached up to Ludwig's unshaven, stubby, cheek.

" Graize," he whispered. "But I must  give you something too."

Ludwig stood there, thinking.

"Can I have the gift that people in Italy give to each other when they love each other a lot?"

The two moved in, Feliciano was on his toes, grasping Ludwig's shoulders. Ludwig bent his head down..

"You have to leave now."

Vassar's cold tone made the lovers freeze. The chill swept into their hearts, numbing the back of the eyes, starting the waterfall again.

"Oh Feliciano!" Ludwig sobbed. "Ich Lieben Dich!"

" Ti amo" Feliciano cried. "You need your gift!"

"One I'll always treasure." Slowly their lips met. A passionate kiss, full of love, not wanting to break apart. They could fell their tears mingle. Their sadness was one, their pain one, their love one.

They broke off when Vassar pulled Ludwig away. He motioned to Feliciano to leave.

"Remember what you told me years ago when we were kids?" Feliciano asked. "That even if the centuries pass, you'll always still love me?"

"And you'll wait for me," Ludwig answered. "And now I'll wait for you."

"I'll wait too!" Feliciano shouted. "Always!"

Vassar led the Italian out, leaving the German with the pounding sensation in his heart. It was a fear of the unkonwn, of the darkness that he would leap into to in about an hour. And yet, it was also the love, the love for Feliciano that kept him going, that made him secure, that promised a life that even death could not conquer.